


Under Pressure

by Lunabelle80



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Mycroft, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, CBT, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Cock Slapping, Cock Slut, Cock Sucking, Cock Warming, Coming In Pants, Creampie, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom John Watson, Dom/sub, Dry Orgasm, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insecurity, Kissing, Kneeling, M/M, Nipple Suckling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Past Drug Use, Past Forced Prostitution, Prostate Massage, Riding Crops, Sub Mycroft, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Top John, daddy Lestrade, holmescest, humping, upcoming incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4074247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunabelle80/pseuds/Lunabelle80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock can't deal with some aspects of his last case. Mycroft recommends a special service to him. Sherlock is going to dom John Watson for help<br/>Be so kind and leave me a comment, because they make me happy :)<br/>As you can clearly see English isn't my mother tongue, so bear with me, please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock insulted Anderson one last time on his way out of the Yard. Donovan just directed a disgusted look at him, before looking back at one of the kids she was comforting in her arms. She blamed it on him, that it took them two days to find the abducted twins. She accused him of not working hard enough, because apparently a simple abduction wasn’t interesting enough for a sociopath. 

He silently entered Baker Street to avoid the inquisitive Mrs. Hudson. He couldn’t stand answering anyone just now. Upstairs he slumped on his chair, hand in face. Could he have done anything faster? Did he miss something, which would have saved the kids in a shorter amount of time? Donovan was right, he wasn’t at his best at this case. His mind didn’t seem to function correctly, when it were kids who were in danger. He loved kids, kids were honest and direct and curious about anything in life. Only when they get older they become boring, annoying and narrow minded adults. Why was it so fucking hard to do this right, he had done everything to find them as fast as possible. But it was never enough. He sighed, he really longed for a fix. What would it matter if he shoot up again? It’s not as if anybody would care. As he was thinking on where to get some drugs in the middle of the afternoon, the telephone rang. 

“Dear Brother mine”

“What do you want Mycroft?”

“I know this look on your face. I’d like to recommend you to call the number I gave you last month. If you follow your previous intention I can assure you, this time rehab will not be so pleasant.”

Sherlock threw the phone at the wall. Fuck Mycroft and his bloody cams. Then after a short amount of rethinking his actions, he went over to the fireplace and picked up the card that lay besides the skull. He read the name on the card again. “John Watson”, could anybody think of a more common and more boring name? Despite his thoughts he called the number on it. 

Sherlock went up the stairs to the third floor, and stood in front of a wooden door. After ringing, he heard a few steps, before the door was opened. John Watson was nothing like he expected. He was short for a man with a compact build and dirty blond hair. But it was mainly the jumper, the beige jumper of an old men, which seemed to be at odds with his profession. Why the hell was Mycroft sending him to this man, was this a joke at his costs? 

“Hello, you have to be Sherlock. Please come in. Do you want a cup of tea?” Sherlock entered the flat, and looked around suspiciously. A short nod of Sherlock and the man went to the kitchen where a pot was already prepared. While sipping his cup of tea, Sherlock observed the man, who had sat down in an opposite chair. Ohhh, probably I have to correct some of my first impressions, there is a hidden strength in this man and yes, definitely something caring. How interesting. Sherlock grinned slightly. “You are a soldier and a doctor!” “Brilliant, just like your brother said” exclaimed John with an open smile on his face. Sherlocks head snapped up. That was going to be really interesting. “Have you ever done this before or visited one of my colleagues? “, asked John. Sherlock looked down at his hands and spoke silently: “No”. “Okay, then let’s start with what we discussed over the phone. Should you become uncomfortable with anything, safeword me. If you tell me `Vatican cameos`, I will stop immediately. Are you Ok with that?” “Yes”, answered Sherlock quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

John went up, put his cup on the coffee table and sat down on the leather sofa. He let his gaze wander over Sherlock. John was good in his Job, very good. Not because he knew all the techniques to get them to submit themselves, to hurt them or to humiliate them, but he knew instinctively what each of his subs needed from him. He got over all the information he got from Mycroft. He couldn’t help himself but to compare this lean man in front of him to his brother. They weren’t so similar in looks, but the lean build and the posh attitude were definitely the same.

Sherlock was already bored. Just because he never had been using the services of a dom doesn’t mean he didn’t know how these things worked. He would demand that Sherlock would strip, kneel in front of him to humiliate him, maybe inflict some pain on him and the whole farce would end in him giving John a blowjob. While he didn’t have a problem with that, he certainly had sucked enough cock in exchange for cocaine, he really didn’t understand how this should help him. Fuck his brother for getting him in this situation.

“Come over here, Sherlock”

There we go, thought Sherlock, stood up, came over to stand in front of John and started to lower himself on his knees.

“No, I want you to lay down on the Sofa, on your back, with your head in my lap.”

Sherlock just blinked a few times, this needed processing. He rearranged his body in the requested position, but his mind was screaming at him. What did John want to do to him in this position, why wasn’t he acting like predicted? He couldn’t stop himself, he had to know…

“ I don’t understand…. I mean why….why don’t y…”

“ Shhhh Sherlock, calm down, this is exactly the reason you are here. This is for you to stop thinking, stop deducing what’s going to happen next, stop being responsible for anything that happens. Everything that happens here will so because I want it, because I decided that it is something you need. In this flat you are my responsibility. I’m going to care for you.”

With that John gently ruffled his hair, scraped his fingers over his scalp. Sherlock had to close his eyes. He didn’t want to feel this, didn’t want the memory. It hurt too much. It was so long somebody had touched him in that way. The last time was when he was a kid. He had promised himself he would never think back to that time again, but he could never forget it, never delete it. He was a curious 5 year old, with a mop of curly hair, following the most important person in his world, his brother, everywhere. He would show his brother the experiments he did with the frogspawn of the pond. Mycroft would patiently explain him the scientific background to his findings and then would gently ruffle through his curls. He loved him, then his brother left, went to school and abandoned him. He was alone.

John cradled his cheek in one hand. He could see the emotion flickering over Sherlocks face. The man was clearly not used to human touch. They would change this.

“Sherlock, look at me”

It took Sherlock a few seconds until he focussed on Johns eyes. John trailed his fingers over Sherlocks face, his impossibly high cheekbones, around his lips.

“Open your mouth for me!”

John let his fingers trail over the seam of his lips, before bending over and kissing the corner of his mouth very lightly. He kissed the full lips of the slightly open mouth. Sherlocks breath was stuttering with this very simple ministration. John licked lightly at the seams of Sherlocks lips, till he could feel the shy touch of Sherlocks responding tongue. John let himself sink into the kiss. Sherlocks warm mouth tasted fantastic, and he was so responsive, just like his brother. John let his hand wander over the lean column of Sherlocks neck, down over his ribcage to loose Sherlocks dark purple shirt out of his trousers. Sherlocks skin under his shirt was burning hot. John undid the buttons and let the shirt fall open.

Sherlock sucked in a breath, and stopped himself from the urge to cover himself up. He knew he was bony and gangly, and as he was informed just his mouth wasn’t as repulsive that a man couldn’t stuff his cock inside. But John looked at him with warm appreciation. John caressed his stomach and started to kiss him again. With that, all thoughts of former encounters simply vanished. Johns hands were warm and playfully petted his rips, before wandering upwards and started lightly teasing his nipples. With that Sherlock whimpered in Johns mouth. John cupped him through his trousers. Only now Sherlock realised that he was painfully hard.

“Come on Sherlock, you are allowed to rub against my hand, make yourself come”

Sherlock didn’t stop for a second, thinking about his situation or how he looked writhing on the couch. The only thing he could concentrate on was Johns tongue in his mouth, on which he sucked with abandon, and the ultimate pleasure he got from thrusting up against Johns hand. It didn’t take long for him to come with a scream, muffled through Johns mouth.

John looked at the man in his lap. Sherlock was absolutely breath taking, his sweat soaked curls hanging in his face, the red well kissed lips open and panting. He rubbed him through his orgasm, feeling the wetness soaking through the trousers. Sherlock looked utterly debauched.

John repositioned them, in a way that both of them were laying on the sofa, with Sherlocks sweaty head tucked under his chin. He spread the blanket over both of them and cuddled him close.

Sherlock pressed his face in the warm jumper. He didn’t know what happened. Firstly he hadn’t thought this was something a professional dom would do at all. This was so vanilla. On the other hand, John was right. During his time here, he hadn’t thought over the case, the drugs or anything at all. He just let everything happen. And now he was lying here warm and safe ins Johns arms. His spent cock in his wet trousers pressed against Johns leg. It felt just perfect.


	3. Chapter 3

John looked up as he heard the key in the lock. Mycroft came in wearing a dark grey suit, his umbrella and an expression of great apprehension on his face. He was uncharacteristically fiddling with the handle of his beloved umbrella. Even if Mycroft does not hide his emotions from him anymore, this would be obvious for anyone to see.

“Oh, Mycroft”, John met the other man by the door, put his hand on Mycroft’s neck, and pulled slowly until Mycroft’s head was resting on his shoulder. “He is going to be fine, don’t worry so much.” John knows how difficult it has been for the older brother to suggest that he should take Sherlock as a sub, too. John was the only one, to whom Mycroft could show his vulnerable side. He thought it dangerous having Sherlock so close to his alleged weak spot. On the other hand he also loves his little brother and was quite certain that John could be exactly what Sherlock needs.

“What did he tell you?”

“Oh, no Mycroft. I will not tell you what he said or what we did, as I won’t tell him specifics about us. But I can assure you that I honestly don’t think he is in immediate danger, just a bit starved for human contact.”

“Let us concentrate on us. How are you Mycroft?” He presses the lean man to him, luxuriating in the smell of the man and the feeling of the expansive clothes under his hands.

“I thought about the things you said you would do to me the whole day” came the silent answer.

“And would you like me to do these things to you?”

“Yes, very much, please. I was so distracted, I almost caused an incident in the middle east.” The most adorable blush anyone could imaging accompanied this.

That is what John loves about Mycroft. No one else is allowed to see him like this. No one but him. Everyone only gets to know, the public persona, the man who has the power to start or end wars, the iceman.

“Ok, Mycroft. Let me see this gorgeous, freckled body of yours.”

John sits back on one of the armchairs and watches Mycroft strip. He likes the way Mycroft divests himself of his clothing. Every article of clothing is folded meticulously. Mycroft doesn’t like his looks at all, but John is very fond of every detail of it. The long lightly muscled legs, the pale freckled skin, the small red nipples, the light reddish hair, the soft belly, the beautifully caged cock. Oh Yes, this body is his, to worship, to possess, to love, to hurt, to mark, to own. Mycroft gave himself to John over 2 years ago. It is his Job to care for him, to take him to pieces and to put him back together. The last step was the custom-made cock cage; Mycroft is wearing for 6 month now. It was Mycroft’s decision to give him the responsibility over his cock and his orgasms. John is the only key holder to Mycroft’s cage, and only he decides if Mycroft is allowed to come, or left desperate, or being milked.

John gets up again, to stand in front of Mycroft. He takes his caged cock possessively in hand. He can feel the warm soft skin, under the hard metal. “Do you like that, Mycroft? Do you like it when I hold your useless cock in my hand? I am not sure if I’m inclined to let you come anytime soon.”

At that, Mycroft whimpers. John tugs him down, and kisses him. He is dominating the kiss, plundering Mycroft’s mouth. Mycroft is giving, he is graving this, he loves to submit himself to John.

John is grinning, slightly. This is something the brothers have in common. Both love to be kissed. They have gorgeous mouths, sinful lips and their unique taste.

“Let’s get this started. I want you on all fours, here on the living room floor, Mycroft. I’ll get everything I need and I want you in position by the time I come back.”

When John comes back, he takes in the scene in front of him. Mycroft is on the floor like requested, head hanging down between his shoulders, beautifully bare and awaiting what would come.

John circles Mycroft slowly, spreading his knees a bit more. He likes to watch him, like this. John takes the riding crop in hand and stands in front of Mycroft.

“Open up boy!” Mycroft looks up in John’s eyes and opens his mouth. John holds the leather tongue of the crop in front of him, and Mycroft begins to lick at it with his tongue. His gaze never leaves John. Mycroft takes the leather in his mouth and sucks at it. “I can see how greedy you are slut, now just open up and stay open.” John presses the leather on Mycroft’s tongue and waits. It doesn’t take long until the saliva in Mycroft’s mouth start to dribble out and runs down his chin. He isn’t allowed to wipe it away, he stays soiled. John is circling Mycroft again, he runs the leather tongue over his shoulder blades and slowly down his spine. It caress the round globes of his arse and runs lightly over his balls. Mycroft is shivering in anticipation. John wields the crop and it comes down hard on Mycroft’s right shoulder. A loud cry from Mycroft follows. John lets Mycroft no chance to compose himself. Strike after strike comes down on Mycroft’s back. After ten strikes Mycroft’s back shows a beautiful red pattern.

“Do you want something to drink Boy, before we continue?” Mycroft isn’t able to form words at the moment, so he just shakes his head and tries to prepare for what he knows to come.

John is back to lightly caress his buttocks, the sensitive inside of his thighs and his vulnerable balls with the riding crop. The hissing sound of the crop is the only sign for Mycroft to prepare himself for the impact on his left cheek. Fuck that hurts. His breathing is coming in short huffs and when John starts hitting his thighs he is openly crying. This is so painful, but it arouses him at the same time. It’s not the pain alone, but giving up every bit of control. He is panting. Will John do it. Will he hit his balls, which are hanging there absolute vulnerable? The anticipation is growing more and more. Oh my god, how will that feel? Can he endure it? His cock is twitching in his prison, if it weren’t caged it would be stone hart despite the pain.

John is amazed of Mycroft, he is panting and shivering all over, he is crying and sobbing. However, he hasn’t tried to move once. He looks so good with all the red marks over him, he probably loved the ones on his thighs the most.

“Mycroft, hold still and spread your legs a bit more, to get me a better aim. I will hit your balls three times. I will hit hard. Feel free to scream as loud as you like, you know this flat is soundproofed. But you will not move. Did you understand this boy?”

“Yes, I understand. Please hit me” sobbed Mycroft, and spread his knees a bit wider.

John wields the crop again and hits him hard. Mycroft screams at the impact. John let him get his breath back under control until he hits him a second time. Mycroft screams again and tries to scramble away.

Mycroft is trying to get away from the pain. It is unbearable. “Please, please, I’m sorry I moved, but please don’t hit me there again” begged Mycroft.

John is kneeling in front of him, bracketing Mycroft’s face in his hands. “My, look at me. You did very well. I’m proud of you. However, I am sure that you can stand this last hit. You will do it for me. Go back into position, now.”

Mycroft scrambles back in position, the stiffness in his spine clearly visible. He takes a deep breath and braces himself for the hit. John hits his balls hard but kneels down immediately and lays a soothing hand down on Mycroft’s lower back.

John is thinking fast, his plan was for Mycroft to turn around, and torture his nipples, his soft belly and his caged cock with the riding crop. His Mycroft loves pain but he thinks that today it is enough of the crop.

After checking that Mycroft isn’t seriously injured. John strips himself and sits back in the armchair. “Come on, slut. You get your reward for sobbing so nicely for me. I want you to warm my cock. You won’t suck it or lick it, while I watch the news.”

Mycroft is wincing of pain, while he crawls to the armchair his balls are on fire. He settles between Johns spread legs on his knees, hands folded in his lap. John switches on the TV and Mycroft takes Johns wonderful cock in his mouth. He loves that. John is carding his fingers through his hair. Mycroft looks up at John who isn’t interested in him at all, his eyes are on the news. Mycroft is calm, mind and body.

John looks down at the person crawling towards him, beautifully marked, wincing from pain, and truthfully thankful for being allowed to wrap his mouth around his cock. John puts his hand on Mycroft’s head and cards his hand through the soft hair in a soothing manner.

After 15 minutes, John looks down again. He is as hard as before. Mycroft’s mouth is warm and wet. Spit is running down his face, but he is looking at him patiently. “Ok, slut. Put that mouth of yours into good use. Suck me and make it good” John let out a groan, Mycroft is good at sucking cock. John bucks up in this, glorious mouth. Mycroft’s tight lips straining around his cock.

“I bet you want that too, do you? Having a warm mouth sucking at your dick. You’d be probably content with a warm hand around it. Nevertheless, you won’t get it, your cock is useless, unable to get hard, just a limp piece of meat hanging between your thighs right now. And look how hard you try.”

John tugs Mycroft of his cock, and pushes a bottle of lube in his hand. “Prepare yourself, make it quick. You will sleep with my cum inside your slutty hole.”

Mycroft does as he is told, he fingers himself first with one, than with three fingers. He carefully gets up, straddles John’s thighs and lowers himself on his big cock. He loves it. The stretch of his hole, the burning sensation intensified through the fast preparation.

John loves watching as Mycroft lowers himself on his cock. The look of concentration on his face, when he pushes himself down, the flicker of pain and then the utter bliss when fully seated.

“Move! Fuck yourself on my dick, work for it boy!” Orders John.

John is once again amazed by Mycroft. He bounces in his lap as if his life depends on it. Sweat rolling down his torso. John grips Mycroft’s beautiful cock. Feeling the flesh hot under his fingers, trying to get hard, but impossible for it to do so. The moment John sees Mycroft’s hopeful look, he comes hard, shooting his load deep into Mycroft. John presses Mycroft against his chest, and breathes hard.

John pushes Mycroft of his cock and looks fascinated as his cum drips from his used red hole and down his thighs. He uses his thumb to push some of it back inside

“Get to the bedroom, I’ll be with you in a few seconds” Mycroft turns around and leaves in the direction of the bedroom. John just grabs a nice pink but plug, and his special set of keys before following him.

“Bend over Mycroft, I want that my sperm stays in your nice slutty hole” With that words John pushed the middle-sized but plug without much resistance up Mycroft’s arse.

“Turn around. I don’t think laying on your back is a good idea, anytime soon.” John gets on his knees in front of Mycroft and holds the key up for him to see. Mycroft’s eyes are going huge at this.

So this is not just a milking, he will actually let me out. Mycroft looks down and watches as John is unlocking his cage. The moment his cock is free, it gets hard. Mycroft is panting, is he allowed touching it? He hasn’t felt his uncaged cock for month. But just then John is leaning forward and licks at his slit. Mycroft whimpers he could come from this bit of contact right now. John now looks at him with a twinkle in his eyes and wraps his mouth just around his glans. He lightly suckles at the head of his cock and Mycroft is coming hard in no time. Mycroft’s knees buckle and if it were not for John he would be lying in a heap on the floor.

Instead of lying on the floor, Mycroft is lying on his stomach on the bed, his head resting on John’s chest. John has one hand in Mycroft’s hair the other one holds Mycroft’s uncaged soft cock securely.


	4. Chapter 4

The doorbell was followed by impatient knocking. When John opened the door, his eyes met an agitated Sherlock. He was sweating, a panic-fuelled gaze wandered over his face and he seemed to have difficulties in breathing.

“Shit, come in”. John grabbed his arm, manoeuvred him through the sitting room and pushed him gently in the chair.

“Put your head down between your knees, and breathe with me!" John didn’t touch him at all, just sat there on the ground in front of Sherlock and breathed with him in a slow and steady rhythm. After all, he had enough experiences with panic attacks himself. After 10 minutes, of breathing together, Sherlock seemed to calm down.

“I am going to make you a cup of tea” announced John before he got up and left in direction of the kitchen. He wondered what could have worked the detective up so much to trigger a panic attack, while putting a generous amount of sugar in the tea.

The first big surprise came, after handing Sherlock his tea and sitting himself on the couch. He just thought about the best way of asking what actually had happened, as Sherlock got up and sat himself next to John on the couch. Their thighs were pressing against each other and Sherlock locked at him for a second with a strange expression on his beautiful face.

`He is unsure if he is allowed to do this, to ask for touch, to seek closeness´ thought John in astonishment. He smiled at Sherlock and took his free hand in his own. “Tell, me” was the only thing he said.

To his surprise, Sherlock did just that. It was another gruesome case involving kids. Usually he shuts himself down emotionally in order to concentrate on solving the case. He had never had a problem doing this hence his self-diagnosed sociopathy. The difficulty was that he couldn’t do it anymore. Since his last visit, two things had changed dramatically. First, he remembered that as a child he had feelings. Feelings of happiness, sadness, and all things between. He remembered that he liked to be touched, to be cuddled, to be held. Second was that he couldn’t sleep anymore, even less so than on normal nights. He was aroused constantly. A problem he haven’t had since he was a teen. The lack of sleep in combination with all the sudden changes in body and mind were too much. He didn’t understand what was happening with him and that triggered the panic-attack.

John stroked Sherlock’s palm with his thumb. “What you’re experiencing is quite normal; you just aren’t used to it, because you have repressed it for so long”

A small smirk could be seen in his eyes, as he told Sherlock: “Let’s see if we can tackle problem number two. I may know one or two methods to get rid of that constant arousal.”

He led him to the bedroom, and turned around. John put his hands on Sherlock’s neck, caressed his silky black curls and gently pulled him down in a passionate kiss. Sherlock went limp in his arms almost instantly. “Let’s get you out of the clothes. I prefer my men naked” He slowly opened button after button on Sherlock’s shirt and let his hands glide over the perfect masculine chest in front of him. A quick flick with the thumb on one nipple elicited a perfect little moan from the detective. The doctor got on his knees and pushed trousers and pants down over lean but muscled legs. When he got up to have a look at Sherlock, his gaze felt on his face. There it was again, the unbelievable unsecure look.

“Sherlock, I don’t know who told you differently, but you are gorgeous. Come here, kneel on the bed, and face the door.” John got around the bed and looked at Sherlock, spine rigid and unsure how to behave in this situation. The doctor got on the bed and knelt directly behind the detective. He put his hand on Sherlock’s chest and pulled him to his chest. Sherlock was sitting practically on Johns lap now, his thighs bracketing Johns and his back pressed to the Doctors front. John kissed Sherlock’s shoulder, and caressed his belly with one hand. The hand wandered downward and grabbed his cook, for slow perfect pulls. Sherlock tried to supress a moan.

“Don’t hide from me. I want to hear every sound. I like to hear it when I do things to you. I also want to watch you twitch, to pant, to come. You look so beautiful like this. Look in the mirror next to the door; look at how gorgeous you are like this. Can you feel what you do to me, can you feel how hard I am for you” Then John heard a shocked gasp.

Sherlock felt John pull at his cock with just the perfect pressure. He panted and dared to look in the mirror. His usually milky white skin was flushed, his eyes dilated. He was sitting in John’s lap, his knees spread apart to accommodate Johns. He was thrusting forward in this strong hand and panted and then he went completely rigid when he looked in the shocked face of his brother.

John registered the change in Sherlock immediately. He looked to the door where Mycroft stood. John thinking fast and knowing Mycroft better than anyone else said: “Isn’t your brother beautiful Mycroft?”

Mycroft came closer and put a hand on Sherlock’s face, caressing his cheekbone with his thumb. “Yes, he really is!”

“Sherlock is it ok for you, to have your brother here? He is going to look out for you.”

Sherlock stared in Mycroft’s face. Thought of all the times they had quarrelled and how his brother had hurt him by leaving him. He thought that he desperately wanted him here, he wanted to be looked after by his big brother.

“Yes, I want him here” came the replay.

“Ok, Mycroft. I want you to leave your shoes over there. Then I want you to open your shirt, but leave it on. Get on the bed and lay down on your back, spread your legs” Sherlock watched fascinated as Mycroft did exactly as he was told.

“Sherlock, come on I want you to lie down on your front, with your head on Mycroft’s chest” Sherlock crawled between Mycroft’s legs and lowered himself on his brother, laying his head on his brother’s naked chest. Mycroft smelled like home, even after all this years.

Mycroft put one arm protectively around the younger brother and with the other one ruffled his curls as he always did when Sherlock was much younger. “I missed you, little one” was all he said.

John watched fascinated the interaction between the two brothers. Sherlock looked gorgeous like that. He looked utterly sinful in the way he was draped over his brother, at the same time he looked so very vulnerable being the only one naked. The Doctor got up to get the lube out of the nightstand. He put some on his fingers, and warmed it a bit.

“Sherlock spread your legs a bit more, for me” Sherlock did as he was told. John gently massaged his balls, and the sensitive skin behind.

Sherlock groaned and pressed his face deeper into Mycroft, who lightly caressed his scalp.

John brushed over the little puckered hole, repeatedly, before pushing one finger in. Sherlock whimpered. He didn’t know what to think. It was exactly what he wanted, and Myc was holding him, but he was afraid. He knew it would hurt. Would it be bearable?

John knew instantly that this was new for Sherlock, he was so fucking tight. He shot a look at Mycroft who understood. “Is this what you really want, little one?” Mycroft asked Sherlock.

“Yes I want John in me, I want to belong to him, I want to be taken by him, I’m sure”      

The Doctor nodded. He prepared Sherlock as gently as possible. John had to force himself to go slowly as he entered Sherlock for the first time. His own long neglected cock would prefer a much more forceful encounter.

Sherlock screamed, but not out of pain. The feeling was simply overwhelming. The burn as John pushed his cock slowly in him, the feeling of being so full, and oh fuck this was so good. Sherlock panted and pushed back, urging John to move.

After a few moments, John started to move out until only the head remained in Sherlock’s body, then pushing inside again. Sherlock’s moans got louder and louder, as John’s movements picked up speed.

John looked up as he heard a whimper from Mycroft. Sherlock had latched on one of his nipples and now suckled at it with enthusiasm, as a child would do. Mycroft’s pupils were all black, he would be hard as rock, if it weren’t for his cage, grinned John.

The Doctor pushed himself in the willing body, and shoved his hand between mattress and Sherlock’s body to grab his cock. It was hard, hot and pulsing under his fingers. After a few pulls Sherlock came hard. His orgasms triggered Johns instantly and he shot his load in the warm waiting body, making Sherlock whimper. The doctor pulled out. Sherlock winced a bit.

John got up to get a flannel. When he got back, he was met with a sight. Both brothers were sleeping peacefully, in the same positions they were in before. Sherlock was cuddled up to Mycroft’s chest, his fingers resting on a bit of chest hair.

John cleaned Sherlock as good as possible, and put a blanket over the sleeping brothers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one. Let me know what you think. Pretty Please :)

Sherlock woke up slowly. He was lying on a warm cuddly cushion and felt oddly relaxed for the first time in weeks. After blinking one eye open he froze completely. He wasn’t lying on a cushion, he was lying on a chest, a naked chest, the naked chest of his brother.

`Fuck, what the hell should he do know?´ Embarrassment flooded through him as he remembered what he did the night before. He had been so turned on that he had latched on his brother’s nipples, while being fucked by another man. If he was honest with himself, he had been equally aroused by his brother as he had been aroused by John. He may be socially unadapt, but even he was aware that someone shouldn’t be aroused by his own brother, his strong arms, the smell of his skin. All the people are right, he thought, definitely a freak.

“Sherlock?” Strong arms tightened around him. “Sherlock look at me!” He looked up in the eyes of his older brother.

“Oh Sherlock, stop talking yourself into panic, you have nothing to be ashamed for. Everyone is into different things when it comes to sex. As long as no one is hurt in the process, all is fine. I won’t let you hurt yourself because of what society would think. If you hadn’t been so focused on your own body last night, you would have been aware that I quite enjoyed your ministrations. I also have kinks, most people wouldn’t understand” Mycroft said grinning.

“That’s definitely true” John said with a chuckle behind Sherlock’s back. Only now Sherlock became aware of the warm person lying behind him.

“I think it is time for an affirmation, of what you have been told” John sat up against the headboard. “Go on, Sherlock! Caress your brother. And look at him this time, look what you do to him!”

Sherlock lets his finger glide over the chest in front of him. He marvelled at that. Feeling the soft, pale skin of his brother under his fingers, the few chest hair, letting his fingers run over a pale pink nipple, he heard a gasp. His brothers pupils were fully dilated, just from this. Carefully, he licked at one nipple with the tip of his tongue. He played with the little nub, and bit it playfully.

Mycroft shuddered at that and let out a raspy moan. Sherlock turned to the other nipple, treating it in the same way and latching on as he did yesterday. Mycroft’s hands holding Sherlock there, carding through his dark locks.

Mycroft seeks out Johns gaze. “Please, Sir?”

John smirks: “Stop Sherlock! Let me show you a few other fun things to do with your brother.”

“Mycroft, get naked and bring me the key”

Only now Sherlock remembered how fast and obedient Mycroft had followed Johns requests yesterday, his eyes getting bigger and bigger, as Mycroft returns fully naked, but for a metal cock cage and kneels in front of John.

“Good boy”, John purrs. Sherlock can see the slight blush on Mycrofts face. John takes the key from Mycroft’s hands and begins to unlock him. In the moment the older brothers cock is free, it gets hard instantly.

“Let me tell you a secret Sherlock, your brother is a bit of a pain slut, who revels in getting used. Isn’t that the case slut?”

Sherlock watches with fascination, as a drop of a milky liquid appears at the tip of Mycroft’s cock just by Johns words.

“I did ask you a questions, slut” John said and tweaked one nipple painfully.

“Yes Sir, sorry Sir” Mycroft gasped, and the blush spread out over his whole body.

“Assume the position, Mycroft. You practically begged me with your eyes to let you come. Be careful what you wish for.”

Mycroft got on all fours and crawled in the middle of the bed. He closed his eyes, he knew Johns way of thinking and was nearly 98% sure, what he was in for. His whole body shuddered he couldn’t wait for the anticipated agony he was sure to come.

“Sherlock, lie down on your back under Mycroft’s chest. Mycroft lower your upper half down enough to allow Sherlock to suckle on your nipples. He seems to be quite fond of them.” John chuckled, and while he got up to get the prostate stimulator, he told Sherlock: “You can also bite them if you like”

John lubed the stimulator quickly. The wand was so slim, he could push it into Mycroft without any preparation. The Doctor made sure that it was exactly at the right spot, and flipped it on.

At the same time as he heard the muted buzzing, Sherlock could feel his brothers light trembling.

Sherlock lets his tongue swirl over the nipple in his mouth, and suckles softly on it.  His brothers breathing gets faster and the trembling escalates into writhing. Sherlock bits his nipple and Mycroft comes untouched with a cry.

Sherlock gets out from under Mycroft and watches his brother, who just came but is still hard.

“Look at your beautiful brother, Sherlock. That is not unusual, when he has been locked away for long enough. And he is so beautiful sensitive, afterwards. Let me show you”

The stimulator kept on buzzing and John took Mycroft’s cock in hand like the most precious thing in the world. He smeared some of the cum over the swollen exposed head and massaged the slit with his thumb. Mycroft cried out at this and coiled up. “Please Sir, stop. Please”

Mycroft trembled, but even if it burned like hell he could already feel the pleasure taking over again, and he came a second time within minutes.

Sherlock could see, that Mycroft struggled to keep himself on all four. But John kept the toy inside his brother buzzing cruelly. He put his hand on Mycroft’s soft cock, and started to wank him, steadily.

His brother tried to escape. This earned him a sharp slap on his upper thighs, and a stronger grip on his sensitive cock. Mycroft started whimpering. “Please Sir stop it! I can’t ……”

After Sherlock’s concerned look. John asked: “Do you want to safeword?”

Mycroft shook his head, at the same time as the first tears were dropping down on the blankets.

He was burning, his cock hurt like hell. Everything was on fire. And “ Ahhhhh” John had slapped his cock hard. He could feel his cock was filling again, slowly getting hard despite its harsh treatment. It was pure agony and he loved every second of it.

“Sherlock get under your brother and lick at his slit.” Sherlock could see John’s hand rudely wanking his brother’s cock. With every stroke, he could see the red, overstimulated head. It looked delicious. He lapped at the slit. His brother jerked away. John kept the head exposed to Sherlock, who started to suckle at it unapologetically.

Mycroft started to cry openly, his thighs quivering, his whole body twitching. He couldn’t stand it any longer, it was too much, then his body exploded in a mind blowing orgasm, and he passed out.

John pulled the stimulator out carefully, and put it on the bedside table for later cleaning. He opened his arms for a befuddled looking Sherlock and arranged themselves to lie down at Mycroft’s side. He put the blanket over themselves and the now sleeping Mycroft and let the younger man cuddle into him.

“As your brother showed you Sherlock, sexuality can be very different, but it is never something one should be ashamed of.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not so happy with this one. But at least it is another chapter.

The next time Sherlock woke, he was alone in bed. As he turned around to press his nose in the already cold pillow, he could hear low voices through the ajar door. Sherlock put on his pants, which he found on a chair beside the bed and peeked through the door. John and Mycroft sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast. John wore jeans and a frankly horrible oatmeal jumper, his brother was in one of his three-piece suits. What really stopped him from entering the room were their faces. He couldn’t even recall the last time, he had seen his brother this carefree. John said something to Mycroft with a soft smile on his face and Mycroft actually chuckled before biting in his toast. This little scene in front of Sherlock was like an epiphany. This was in no way a professional relationship between a sub and a dom, this was real affection and a very real relationship.

 

His thoughts went back to a different kitchen years ago. He woke up on the floor in front of the couch. His throat raw and dried semen on his face. Somebody had thrown an old blanket over him. Maybe Victor didn’t want him to get cold. Victor had been so nice at the beginning. He told him sweet things and smiled a lot at him. Then he coaxed him to try cocaine. By the time he was hooked on it, Victor cut him off. When Sherlock was quite desperate and begged Victor for just a bit of the drug, he told him in a cold voice, that maybe one of Victor’s customers would spent some on him if he would be nice to them. This was how Sherlock became some kind of commercial gimmick. The wealthy ones of Victor’s buyers could get an additional blow job from the thin boy with the dark locks for just a bit of cocaine.

The blanket gave Sherlock hope; maybe Victor still cared for him. Therefore, he got to his feet and stumbled into the kitchen. First he washed the soil off his face at the sink. Then he started to make breakfast for them. After the toast was ready, he heard the bedroom door opening. Sherlock turned around with a hopeful smile on his face. “Good morning, I made us breakfast.” Victor stared at him for about 10 seconds and then started to laugh loudly at him. “You don’t really think I would eat breakfast with a filthy slut like you? And by the way you shouldn’t eat either, if you become fat in addition to your ugly face, nobody will even want to fuck your dirty mouth.” In hindsight, this was the breaking point. It took three more month, until a young Lestrade found him in an abandoned house during a drug raid. 

 

Sherlock stood at the bedroom door and watched his brother and John sharing breakfast. This was everything he had looked for. Someone caring for him, someone laughing with him, someone smiling with him. However, everyone he had thought cared for him eventually left. He didn’t want to come between them and he also didn’t want their pity.

Mycroft looked up surprised when Sherlock just went for the door. “I’m going on a case”, was all they could hear before the door banged shut. John also swallowed his mouthful of tea and looked a bit bewildered. “Do you think he is okay?” asked John. “I’m going to increase my brothers’ surveillance, and then we will see.” , answered Mycroft already tipping on his smartphone.

 

Sherlock didn’t really know where to go. He didn’t want to go to his flat, sitting there alone would just increase his need to shoot up. The same applied to his homeless network, it was far too easy to get drugs there. There was no way that Molly was at the morgue at a Sunday, so no reason to go to St. Barts. This just left him with Lestrade. The case had just been a ruse to get out of Johns flat unquestioned, but maybe he could persuade him to give him one of the cold cases.

 

After spending the afternoon wandering around London, Sherlock broke in as he always did when visiting Lestrade. However, to his surprise, he didn’t get the usual exasperated look, for ignoring the doorbell – again -. Instead a little bundle with fine brown hair was shoved into his arms, and a hectic Lestrade told him: “Just look after her for a minute, the bloody soup is scorching already” and with that he vanished in the direction of the kitchen. Sherlock looked down into big brown eyes observing him with interest. Oh, this little ten-month-old girl has to be Annabel Lestrade. Otherwise known as the last attempt to fix the relationship between Lestrade and his cheating wife. As always in these situations you can’t mend what is irreparable and the Ex moved to France with a 30 year old carpenter, and left little Annie with her father. He completely forgot that Lestrade has been a single dad for quite some time know. In retrospect, the dark circles under his eyes and the exhausted look on his face made actually sense.

Sherlock sat down on the couch and looked at the little girl in his arms. It was astounding to him that he was trusted with someone so precious to Greg (of course he knows his name). Annie wore grey trousers and a white and green striped shirt with little trains on it. At the moment she was sort of grinning at him and trying to stuff her little fist into her mouth.

Halfway into his musings Lestrade came back, took his daughter and gave him a bowl with vegetable soup.  “Eat Sherlock, I don’t have the nerves to coax food into two kids.” The warm soup actually tasted quite good and Sherlock watched as Greg fed his daughter spoon after spoon.

Greg had put Annie in her bed. For once the little girl slept almost instantly. Lets hope I have the same luck with my next task, thought Greg. He had to find out why Sherlock had appeared on his doorstep or rather in his living room, looking quite forlorn and not even pestering him for cases.

As he re-entered his living room, the empty bowl was standing on the floor and a softly snoring detective was occupying his couch. Lestrade spread a blanket over the sleeping person and gave into the impulse to ruffle through the dark curls on Sherlock’s head. Afterwards he snapped a picture and attached it to a short message to Mr. Holmes.


	7. Chapter 7

Greg woke from a sobbing sound transmitted by the baby monitor. Anny had been particular grumpy during the last few days and especially during the nights. He expects to see her very first tooth, very soon. On his way to her room, he can see Sherlock is still sleeping on his couch. After caring for his little girl and persuading her to fall asleep again, he stops in the living room to look at the detective occupying his old battered leather couch.  He can’t help it, but compare this man to the gangly kid he found during a drug raid.

Sherlock had been wearing old tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie, his curls were dull and his cheeks were bruised. Despite the split lip and the fact that he was obviously shivering with withdrawal, his eyes quickly evaluated the situation at hand. He looked at him, calculating his options and then turned on the shabby mattress and crawled towards him.

“If you forget, that I’ve been here and you let me go, I’d let you do anything you want to me.”

To date Greg didn’t forget his surprise in hearing that dark voice, and the split second in which his mind wasn’t quite sure about his decision. In the end he did the right thing, arrested Sherlock and had the questionable pleasure to meet the second Holmes within an hour. All charges against Sherlock vanished mysteriously and he was brought to a probably very expansive and very discreet rehab centre.

Three month later Greg was contacted by the slightly intimidating Mycroft Holmes. He was asked to let Sherlock help him, as an incentive for him to stay clean in return. Greg didn’t really knew what he should think about that. He just wanted to forget the boy with the unusual features, and tempting big eyes. He was totally aware of the fact, that the attraction he felt for that young boy was more than a bit not good. In addition, since meeting the boy only for a few hours, he felt the urge to somehow care for him.

In the end, his consideration didn’t matter at all. Because, when Mycroft Holmes asks you to do something, it isn’t optional.

In the following years, Sherlock developed to the man lying on his couch. His appearance changed dramatically. The gangly kid became a lean, but strong man. The hoodie and tracksuit bottoms changed into suits, too tight shirts and a showy coat. The man was rude and arrogant. God help him but Greg feared he was attracted to that, too. While he had discovered some bodily reactions to the attitude both Holmses where showing, he still felt the need to care for the younger one and look out for him.

Greg rubs his head to disengage himself from his musing, and steps to the couch to pick up the blanket, which has fallen to the ground. He spreads the blanket over the sleeping detective, and can’t resist the temptation to let his fingers trail over one cheekbone.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning John woke to Mycroft already sitting in bed and typing on his phone.

A muttered “Good morning, love” had the desired effect. Mycroft still wasn’t used to endearments and a blushing Holmes was a sight to behold.

“Should we reschedule our plans for today? We could, you know.”

“No I don’t think so, John. He is with Detective Inspector Lestrade. I think Sherlock is in no immediate danger at the moment.” The scene they wanted to do today, was the result of weeks of planning. The right people had to be chosen. Then they had to do a security check on them, which was realised, very thoroughly, by Anthea. And last but not least, any of them needed an absolutely clean state of health.

“To be honest, I’m quite nervous about today”

“You will be beautiful. I’m sure of that.”

 

John was waiting for Mycroft, when he came home at four o clock as agreed upon.

“Just in time. Weren’t there any wars that needed fuelling or ending? Or are you really so eager for tonight?”

With that, John presses Mycroft to the door, and kisses him slowly. His hands are wandering between the slightly warm shirt, and his suit jacket, cupping his hips and grinding their hips together. As John lets his hands trail down to Mycroft’s crotch, he whimpers. He opens Mycroft’s fly, pushes his pants down und frees his cock. John steps back, gets the key out of his pocket, and unlocks the cage with practised hands. He holds Mycroft’s hardening cock in his hands, when he tells him:

“I want you to make us a cup of tea. You will let your cock hang out like this, for me to look at while you’re preparing it”

With that, John turns around and makes himself comfortable in his chair. He watches when Mycroft comes into the living room, with two cups in hand. He looks striking, in his prim suit, with his hard cock hanging out, and an already flushed face.

“Oh my dirty boy. You love it, don’t you? You love that I can order you to do that. I tell you to let your cock hang out for me to see and you go hard like the slut you are. It’s humiliating to walk around like this and knowing that I can touch or hurt you, at any time, but you love it anyway, don’t you? Come here”

Mycroft puts the cups on the table and steps closer. He looks down, when John takes his cock in one hand, and begins to slap it with the other one.

“Ahh” it doesn’t hurt in the beginning but it is such a strange feeling to let someone do this to you. You are so exposed when you let another person hit one of your most vulnerable parts. It is a burning sensation, he loves his helplessness and how it slows down his always racing mind.

John looks at Mycroft, who stares down at his hands. John stops and runs his fingers over Mycroft’s cock, rubs at his glans and slowly over his slit. He looks in Mycrofts panting face.

“I want you to remember one thing tonight. You are allowed to come as often as you want, when our guests are here. However, I have a little surprise for you afterwards. I plan to do some not so nice things to this beautiful red cock. You probably doesn’t want to be too sore for that already.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry, that it took so long, but real life was interfering.  
> This chapter is no plot and pure smut. Be aware of the new tags. Don't be mad at me, if it's not up to the usual standard, i wrote it in a rush.
> 
> I Love you all 
> 
> Annika

John looks at Mycroft, who is shivering with anticipation. He is on all fours besides his chair, with Johns right hand resting on the small of his back. Getting him ready had aroused them both. Mycroft is naked, but wearing a black leather hood which has only one opening for his mouth. They cant risk anyone recognizing him, so the hood stays on all the time and Mycroft isn't allowed to talk.

 

Mycroft hears them coming. According to the sound of the steps there has to be three men. A short knock on the door, then John gets up to open it. John greets them in his usual friendly fashion and offers them drinks. After everyone got a beer, two of them sit down on the couch, the other takes the chair which is not occupied by John. He can feel their gazes on him, as he hears John saying. “ You can use him as you like, I just sit here and watch. I will tell you if something is not on..”

 

The one on the chair, tells him. “Come here, boy. Let us have a good look at you.” Mycroft knows he is not allowed to stand, so he crawls forward until he is in front of the chair. He shivers as he feels the man cupping his chin and rubbing his thumb over his lips. One of the others, lets his hand trail over his back, stroking up and down, then giving him a short slap on his buttock. Mycroft feels exposed, he doesn't like his looks and they get to inspect him thoroughly.

The men in front of him laughs out loud at the goosebumps he gets at the touches. “Oh, look how he likes to get petted, like a really needy doggy. I think I'd like to treat you like one. What do you think?” He asks the other two, who seem to agree with him.

 

The men in front of him, grabs the back of his head and presses him face first to his jeans clad crotch. “I want you to take a sniff, isn't that what dogs do?

Mycroft inhales deeply and can smell and feel the arousal of the man. Tentatively he puts his tongue out, and laps at the hard bulge he can feel trough the jeans. At the same time he can feel the hands of the others all over his body, petting, probing. One of them is parting his cheeks, and looks at his hole.

“Come, over here Alex, you have to see this. This little doggy is all wet for us.”

The men rubs one of his fingers over his hole, which is glistening with the lube John had used to open him up. The one in front of him pushes him back and divests himself of his clothing.

“Now you can show me what that pink tongue of you can do, I want you to lick my cock like a good little puppy and if you are good maybe I let you suck it, too”

Mycroft, leans a bit forward to do as he is told, as he can feel one finger slowly penetrating him. The finger is pulled out, then replaced with two circling his rim, then pushing inside again. Mycroft thought what he must look like to John, eagerly lapping on one man's cock while trying to fuck himself on the fingers of some other men. One of them grips Mycroft's hard dick.

“Oh, it looks like this little doggy likes it to have something in his needy hole. Go on, give him what he really wants”

The man in front of him takes this as a hint and shoves his cock deep into Mycroft's mouth. His eyes watering at this sudden intrusion, blocking his airway. At the same time one of the men behind him, lines his bare cock up with his hole and pushes in, steady and relentless. Mycroft is filled on both sides, he can't breath and his mind is calm. It's nothing he can do, besides letting them use him in any way they want. The cock in his mouth pulls out for a bit, letting him breath for a few moments before pushing back in and fucking his mouth in earnest. The cock he is impaled on, also setting a punishing rhythm, and pushing him forward with each thrust.

 

John has to palm himself through his jeans. Mycroft is truly beautiful. His whole body glistens from the sweat and John can see he loves it to get used like this. His lips are stretched over the sizeable dick in front of him, and the leaner taller man is nearly lying on Mycroft's back and pounding him really forceful. Mycroft's hard dick slaps against his own belly with every thrust. John knows the whining sounds his Mycroft would make with every push if his mouth hadn't been occupied otherwise. The thrusts from the man behind him becomes more erratic before he shoots his load deep inside Mycroft.

The man in front of him lets him go and Mycroft hangs his head, while he feels the men coming into him. After a few seconds the man behind him pulls out, and Mycroft feels empty. The two men looking at his twitching open hole, one of them feeling the rim and pushing some of the leaking come back in. The one on his side, gives Mycroft's dick a few slaps. “Look how hard this poor puppy is, should we let him come?”

 

To Mycroft's astonishment, he hears John say. “Actually you guys gave me some ideas, do you want to hear them?” They probably nodded to that, because John continues: ”You already made him, your little doggy. Let him get off, like a horny dog would do. Throw him one of this cushion rolls of the couch on the ground. Lets see if he can get off like a horny dog by humping it”.

 

Mycroft blushes all over, he new they would love that. To see him, humping a cushion on the ground. It couldn't get much more humiliating than that. He hears someone placing something under him. Then the man in front of him tells him. “If you want to come, go for it” Mycroft spreads his legs as wide as he could, to get near enough to the ground, for his cock to come into contact with the cushion. He tries to rub his aching cock over the ornate fabric, but every time he pushes, the cushion slips away. He tries to put a bit more weight on it, but the result is the same. The men are laughing at his more and more desperate tries to humping the cushion. One of the men eventually steadies the cushion with a foot, to make it at least doable. Mycroft rubs his cock over the fabric. Precome making it wet. He doesn't want to imagine what he looks like. He could feel a bit of the semen the man put in him leaking from his hole as he desperately tries to reach orgasm. Hi is making little moans and whimpers with each thrust against this pillow. It's chafing his sensitive dick, but it is a good hurt. He gets a bit louder at the end, and he is shuddering through his orgasm.

 

They don't let him come down. The man who previously fucked his mouth. Pulls him up unto the couch. Mycroft is arranged on his back, head in the lap of the third man. The man who pulled him up, instructs him to spread his legs and holding himself open at the back of his knees.

Mycroft is totally exposed, in this position he is absolutely vulnerable and they can see all. The men in front of him pets his belly, and rubs at his nipples. “What a good puppy you are. I love to fuck my puppies when they are all spent and pliant. With that he thrusts his big cock in Mycroft's already fucked hole and pounds him in a steady rhythm. “Mhh, you feel so good, your are already so wet inside, do you like it when I use your hole like this?” Each thrust found Mycroft's prostate and he squirmed with the overstimulation. “I especially love, to see your flaccid cock, flapping around with a good pounding.” Mycroft whimpers with every thrust, his body couldn't take much more. The men empties himself into him with a big groan. As he pulls out, Mycroft can feel his hole open and leaking.

The third men positions himself in front of him, the moment the other is gone. But instead of pushing in like Mycroft had him expected to do. He presses his thighs a bit more to his chest and opens him up a bit more. Then he just looks at his quivering hole. Mycroft doesn't want to, but he loves it. When some of his colleagues could see him like that. This thought was interrupted by the man's thumb popping in and out of his hole, teasing the red rim. When the man pushes two of his fingers inside feeling the cum and smearing it at his rim, Mycroft could feel his cock twitch. The man scissors his fingers, then pushes three of his thick fingers inside, stretching him, then pulling out and watching his open hole. The man plays with his rim, pushing his fingers in repeatedly, never deep, but circling the red rim, caressing it. Mycroft is ashamed of his neediness but he tries to push down on them, push them deeper. With a growl the third man positions himself and fucks him in his already sloppy hole. A hand grips his dick and pulls him in the same pace the man pounds into him. Mycroft is exhausted but fully hard again as the third men comes with a few grunts deep inside him. That's how they left him.

Mycroft didn't know how much time has passed, but someone lifts his head and opens the zipper on the back of his hood. As he opens his eyes he sees Johns smiling face. Mycroft gets a soft kiss on his sweaty temple. John is holding a really big but plug in his hand. “You were absolutely gorgeous! I want to work this into you, to get all their mixed sperm in your little dirty hole, then we get you into shower and then I have a last surprise for you as promised”

Mycroft let out a groan thinking of that big plug and remembering John's anouncement.

John gets between Mycrofts legs, his fingers caressing his thighs. “Come on, relax for me” John says and begins to push the pink plug inside.

“You should see yourself, your hole is so slippery and open. Mhh. I like how it opens up to this toy. We are not nearly at the widest point of it. I love how you stretch around it. Do you like it, too?” Mycroft presses his eyes closed as the pressure continues Oh how he loves it, when John speaks to him like that. The stretch is nearly unbearable at the moment. He could only imaging how he looks, like that. His hole trying to take all, John is ready to give to him. At the widest point of the toy, John stopps, holding it still and tracing the strained rim with a gentle fingertip, then pushing it in fully. “ Sorry, couldn't resist” John grins at him and pulls him up with a kiss and in the dircetion of the shower.

 

After John had showered and towelled him dry. He asks him if he still wanted him to do, what he had indicated.

 

Mycroft looks down at his half hard cock and nods his head, he wants to know what cruel things John has thought about for him.

 

“Okay, let me get some supplies. You go and stand naked in front of the bed. I'll be back in a tick.”

 

When John gets back, Mycroft doesn't look at the supplies, he just watches as John sits down in front of him and takes Mycrofts cock in hand. “You know I love you and I also love this beautiful dick. But I also love to torture it” Mycroft shudders at that. John leans in and tongues Mycroft's slit slow and teasingly. “Mmmm you taste so good” John wraps his hand over Mycrofts hard dick and pulls it slowly, rubbing his thumb over the head from time to time. Mycroft is hard, he aches, he loves that it hurts a bit too, John is not using any lubricant and Mycroft is already a bit chafed from humping the cushion earlier. John starts to rub his finger over the exposed head, again and again. At the beginning it feels good, than it becomes a burning sensation. “Lets take this a bit further. I know how you like it, when I hurt this sensitive dick for you.” John grabs a dry wash cloth, he has brought with him and wraps it around Mycroft's dick. It's not exactly rough but it burns like hell, when John starts to wank him with it. Mycroft, puts his hands on Johns shoulders and stares at his own dick, which is still hard. “Ohh, please, it hurts, please not, please John...., ohhhh.” Mycroft is sobbing, but he doesn't pull away. “I have one last special item for you, Mycroft”, John says. The moment, Mycroft sees what it is he trys to step back, out of Johns reach. “Come on Mycroft, I know you can do it and more important I know you want it” Mycroft nods and steps back into Johns reach, who wraps the wash cloth back around his cock and exposes the head. Then he takes the toothbrush, and presses it to the sensitive flesh there. It is a toothbrush with soft bristle but it hurts like hell, when John starts to rub with it over the head in circles and repeatedly presses it into his slit. Mycroft can't hold back the tears know, as he looks at his bruised member. “Stop John, please stop” "Not yet, you loved it, to let them watch you humping that cushion, didn't you? I want a private show. Get down on your knees. I let you hump my leg. We wont stop, before you reached orgasm." Mycrofts gets on his knees, and taking one of Johns jeans clad legs between his, he starts to rub himself on Johns shin. It hurts, like nothing did before. The fabric to rough on his sensitive cock, but he is still hard. He tries to get faster to shorten the agony. To his astonishment Johns jeans get a bit wet, from the precome he leaks and smears all over it. Mycroft looks up into John's eyes, a desperate look on his face. John smiles at him, wiping the tears from his face and orders him to come. With a surprised expression on his face Mycroft actually comes. John bends down and takes a crumbling Mycroft in his arms. He arranges them both on the bed, pulling the linens over them. John asks “Was the scene like you wanted it to be?”, as Mycroft cuddles into him. “No, it was better” says the already half asleep Mycroft. “You may not fully understand this, but I especially love my tender and aching cock, thank you” With that an exhausted Mycroft goes to sleep.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Greg moans as these beautiful lips stretch over his dick. He never thought the day would come when he could push his throbbing cock into the brilliant mouth of Sherlock Holmes. Greg reaches down to grip a handful of the silky locks, holds him there to thrust deep into his throat. The resulting retching, doesn’t sound quite right, however. Greg wakes up abruptly and senses a lot of things at once.

Most importantly this wasn’t just a wet dream at all. At the foot of his bed, he can see the very real, very naked consulting detective cowering. He looks shell-shocked for being pulled of his cock and shoved away hastily.

“What the fuck, Sherlock”, Greg presses out as he simultaneously tries to scramble into a more upright position and to cover himself up with the blanket. “Are you fucking mad? You can’t just come in here and…”

Sherlock looks at him with big eyes, and crawls backwards and out of the bed. He picks up something of the floor, obviously his discarded clothes and presses them to his chest. He turns around to flee the room.

“Stop” Greg orders.

Greg isn’t sure he understands, what is happening at the moment, but he knows he can’t let his friend leave now. Sherlock is kind of frozen midway between bed and door, his shoulders are slumped, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Sherlock, talk to me. Why, did……”

“I’m sorry” Sherlock said. “I thought that we…, that I could...”

“Just come here, Sherlock” Greg pets the free space on the bed beside him. He looks so fucking vulnerable as he sits there on the bed, still clutching his clothing to his chest. Sherlock actually jerks away as Greg lays one hand on his back. His spine is too pronounced at his too thin body, but that is not the foremost problem Greg is facing right now.

“Sherlock, look at me” Greg tells him, when he is seated beside the detective at the edge of the bed. “Why did you think, that would be a good idea?”

Sherlock has a somewhat resigned look on his face.

“You seemed to care for me. You put a blanket over me, when I was sleeping on the couch” Sherlock looked down to his own hands. “I’m sorry I often get these things wrong, I thought you like me.” He stopped, looking in Greg’s eyes searching for something. “I deduced that you would like a blow job from me, you stare on my mouth always a bit too long.  You want to be rough with me. You know you can do that, you know?” He looks just a bit unsure if he should continue. “I would allow it, if you want to hold me down, to dominate me, you can hurt me if you want, too. I just, ...” He stops briefly. “I just don’t want to be so lonely anymore”.

Greg really doesn’t know what to say. Of course, he had these fantasies. There were times, when the consulting detective was at his arrogant and cocky best, he’d very much like to shove him over the next table, pull down his expansive trousers and fuck him into submission. But that doesn’t stop him from caring for Sherlock. And just now, with this insecure and vulnerable man beside him, nothing is further from his mind. He isn’t sure what he is angrier about. Is it the fact, that Sherlock thought so low of him to assume he would only be there for him, if he would be sexually available? Or is he really angry at the person who made Sherlock think so low of himself, who made this brilliant man believe nobody could be interested in him as a person.

Greg takes the clothing out of Sherlocks arms and tips his chin up with his right hand. He looks into these beautiful but unsure eyes.

“You were right. I do care for you. And you are allowed to ask for closeness or affectionate touch. I’m more than happy to do that for you, without you paying with your body for it."

With that, Greg crawls back under the covers, holding one end up for Sherlock to join him. Sherlock looks unsure, but follows him and lays down on his back next to Lestrade, staring at the ceiling.

“I think we can do better, then that.” says Greg “Come here”.

He pulls Sherlock to his side, till the younger men rests his head in the crook of his neck. Sherlock is totally naked but not aroused. Still not knowing if this is allowed, Sherlock puts one hand on Greg’s chest. Greg looks down and smiles at him, kissing him on the temple. Greg lets his right hand wander over Sherlocks back, slowly caressing him. The first reaction is Goosebumps all over the younger man’s skin, the second reaction is that Greg could feel Sherlock slowly relax into his side. Greg cuddles him even closer and covers the hand on his chest with his own. He smiles when he hears a light snore coming from Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think pretty please?


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